They buried Mr. Peanut in an advertisement during the Super Bowl.
Planters had killed off their 104-year-old monocled mascot in a peanut-mobile cliff-crash accident shortly before the big game, and it looked like game over for the centenarian legume.
But the world is a fickle place, and, rejuvenated in his grave by tears from the Kool-Aid Man, Mr. Peanut came back during that very same Super Bowl funeral ad as a younger, cuter Baby Nut. (Baby Nut, by the way, bears more than a passing resemblance to the uber-cute Baby Yoda, who is garnering a lot of internet love just now. This may be far from an accident.)
Some in the advertising industry have suggested the death of the senior nut may be something of a watershed moment in advertising; old mascots being pushed aside for new ones could be the next great ad opportunity.
(In a particularly dark moment, we thought of Colonel Sanders, bereft of even that last leg of Kentucky fried chicken, lying emaciated on the floor of an opium den, muttering, “I should have stuck to 11 herbs and spices.” But that’s just us.)
Tony the Tiger from Frosted Flakes — “They’re Grrrrreat!” — could be replaced by a cute little tiger-kitten after a tragic big game accident.
The Jolly Green Giant (“Ho, ho, ho”) already has the Little Green Sprout, but the youngster would be far cuter (and the same colour as Baby Yoda) if it was redesigned as “Baby Greens.”
And we’re ready with a few local suggestions of our own.
Locally, St. John’s mascot Admiral Johns could get mauled by Frosty, Mount Pearl’s Frosty Festival mascot. The two fight to the death over where the border should be between the two cities (“Amalgamate this,” Frosty could growl, dragging his claws across Admiral Johns grinning visage). Afterwards, Frosty could come back as Snowball, a big-eyed but cute little mascot that can roll like robot BB-8 from “Star Wars,” while stodgy old grey-haired Admiral Johns could be replaced by a younger, hipper new-era gig economy Cabin Kid Johns.
The mind boggles.
Buddy the Puffin tragically flies into a window on a new glass downtown hotel, his mouth filled with fresh caplin to feed his offspring, which turns out to be new mascot Buddy the Puffling, who is grey and fuzzy and 10 times cuter. (Just search out “puffling” on the internet and strangle yourself on cute.)
The Maple Leaf Big Stick Bologna mascot, a staple in St. John’s parades, slips and falls on ice on a Thorburn Road sidewalk and accidentally goes through a City of St. John’s street snowblower.
He magically returns as seven small doe-eyed Vienna Sausages, who delight parade-goers by packing themselves into a tiny sausage tin on wheels.
The mind boggles at the sheer volume of opportunity here.
The ad king is dead: long live the ad king!
